


From Haste to (Self) Hate

by TalysAlankil



Series: Vanven week 2020 [6]
Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence in the beginning to establish backstory, Darkness is Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts), Erections, M/M, Philosophical waxing about the nature of redemption, Post-Canon, Vanitas Redemption (Kingdom Hearts), is that an appropriate tag? idk, these tags are seriously getting out of control idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 09:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28349223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalysAlankil/pseuds/TalysAlankil
Summary: When they were enemies, Ventus and Vanitas always seemed to find the time to get each other off before they fought each other off. Now that they're boyfriends, these things called feelings make everything more complicated.
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: Vanven week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067783
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	From Haste to (Self) Hate

**Author's Note:**

> For Vanven week day 6, with the prompts "Dream Date" and "Redemption", although I took the former and turned it upside down. I wanted to write a fic about the worst sex possible, and how maybe that could also be good in other ways, so here we are.

Ven still remembered the first time he'd met Vanitas—appearing in his bedroom at the Land of Departure, seemingly out of nowhere, threatening him with news about how Terra was going to be lost forever. How Ven had thrown himself at Vanitas in a haphazard attempt at beating the taunt out of him, and how, when their bodies had _actually_ made contact, they'd been instantly electrified and overheated.

He kept that part of the encounter to himself. The shedding of clothes was brief, and only limited to the necessities. Vanitas hadn't taken off his helmet, and Ven hadn't wanted him to. All he wanted was _access_ , to feel Vanitas's cock against his. If anything, a face would have made everything more complicated; it would have forced Ven to deal with what he was actually _doing_ , how wrong it probably was, and how little sense it made to feel this way about a complete stranger whose only words to him had been cruel needling.

None of it mattered to him at the time, though. They finished, wordlessly parted, and Ven remembered he had something far more important to do—find Terra and stop him. And when he failed at that, he set out after him, afraid his own selfishness was the reason he hadn't been able to catch up on time to change Terra's mind.

That moment with Vanitas set the stage for them, however. At times it was like Vanitas was letting Ven catch up with him. In the meadow of Dwarf Woodland, he appeared after Ven parted ways with an old woman. In the old chateau of Cinderella's father, he was there to tease Ven mercilessly while he was trapped in a cage meant to catch mice. Brief, fleeting moments.

When they met—and fought—at the Badlands, things went further. The heat was the same, but when Vanitas drew Ven inside of him, it felt like more. It would take until they reunited in that same world, at the end of Ven's journey, that Ven would understand why. It was a way for them to emulate the true union their hearts craved.

Ten years asleep did nothing to change that. When the Keyblade War broke out, before Aqua found him, he found the time to grapple with Vanitas one-on-one once more. Neither of them acknowledged this _thing_ between them—and when they reverted to fighting, Ven knew the desire to annihilate the other was all too real.

But then the war ended and Vanitas faded to darkness. Or so Ven thought—until it became clear _that_ Vanitas had come from the past, and had always been doomed to return there at the end of his usefulness to Xehanort. Which left the question: where was the _actual_ Vanitas of this time?

He was the only one who cared, because to everyone else, he was an enemy. And Ven couldn't explain himself, because it would mean owning up to something he couldn't help but feel ashamed of, yet craved all the same.

So search he did, and eventually, he found him again. And without the war and Xehanort's influence between them, without the χ-blade to bring their union to completion, things were different. They couldn't merge anymore, and beside, their hearts weren't as pure as they once had been. Ven had grown darkness of his own—anyone's heart would, after going through war; all the Guardians of Light were still coping with that. And Vanitas—well, Ven could sense a hint of _something_. It wasn't light, not yet, but it was a seed of it, and Ven was determined to help it grow.

He offered Vanitas a helping hand, and for the first time, they were around each other without fighting—or tearing off each other's clothes—at the drop of a hat. They got to know each other, and Ven realized that seed of light wasn't just _any_ light; it was feelings for Ven. The kind Ven had begun to think he couldn't feel at all, and now found himself returning instead.

They started dating slowly, gradually; the label was slow to came, and their progress through the stages of a relationship was equally cautious. It was an unspoken thing between them, this need to take things slow when everything else between them had moved so unspeakably _fast_.

It took over a year for them to end up back where it all began, in Ven's bedroom at the Land of Departure. They had gotten kissing down to a science, or an art, maybe; lips locked, hands roaming on each other's bodies, grinding and groping, limbs tangled together. They shed their shirts, as they'd done many times since they started dating. Ven undid the fly of his pants because _oh_ , he just needed room to _breathe_.

Then, on a whim, he worked Vanitas's fly open as well, quietly asking if it was okay before he slid a hand under Vanitas's underwear to cup the curve of his ass, skin on skin.

"I want you," Ven said, his breath ragged and desperate already. "Do you think—"

"You never asked before," Vanitas teased.

"But it's not the same now."

"No. It's not. But I've always wanted you, Ventus. I still do."

As if he felt the need to demonstrate, Vanitas crawled down Ven's chest, peppering kisses across Ven's chest as he worked his way down. Once he was within reach, he pulled Ven's pants down in a smooth motion, and then, without a hint of hesitation, took Ven's cock in his mouth, letting out a satisfied groan as he did that set Ven's entire body ablaze.

They'd never done this, not even _before_ , and it somehow felt stronger to Ven for it. Maybe it was the look of Vanitas kneeling between Ven's legs, his dark hair brushing against Ven's skin when he bobbed down, his gaze hungry when he looked up at Ven through his eyelashes.

"Slow down," Ven said. "I don't want to finish too fast." They only got one first time; he wanted to make it count.

Vanitas stopped immediately, but when Ven urged him to trade places, he seemed to hesitate. "I just—want to make you feel good," he said softly.

Ven tried to move, but his pants around his ankles were hindering his movements. It took some wriggling to be free from them, after which he sat up and drew Vanitas closer. "I know. And I love that about you. But—so do I. Okay?"

A flash of redness crossed Vanitas's cheeks, and he averted his gaze, but he nodded. "Okay," he said, before rolling on his back.

Ven moved beside him, and pulled Vanitas's pants and underwear out of the way. But as he looked down at the sight of his boyfriend's body exposed in front of him, he couldn't help but pause at the sight of Vanitas's cock, still soft atop his balls. Had he been self-conscious about that? Ven didn't comment on it, lest it made Vanitas feel worse. Instead, he bent down to kiss Vanitas, running his hands over the sensitive spots on his chest slowly and methodically.

It seemed to work for a time: Vanitas kissed him back eagerly, and his body responded as Ven was used to. But when Ven slid one hand down across his stomach, and took Vanitas's cock, it was still soft between his fingers. Slowly, Ven tentatively stroked it, but there was still no response.

Finally, Vanitas broke the kiss and threw his head backwards with a heavy sigh. "Sorry," he said simply.

Frowning, Ventus let go of him, and settled down, pressing his body at Vanitas's side, putting his hand over his heart. "Why don't you tell me what's going on?" he asked.

"What's—"

"I know you like me. I know you like _this_."

"You don't know what I like."

He was closing himself up, but Ven wouldn't take it. "Our— _encounters_ before were many things. Not all of them good." He certainly didn't miss the fighting that always seemed to follow them. "But this never happened. We've never had a problem having sex then. Is it—is it because we're together now? Is it that—you don't want me if—"

"No!" Vanitas finally met his eyes then, and he looked panicked. Because Ven was questioning their relationship? Ven hoped so, at least. "I do want you. I just—" He threw his head back again, staring blankly at the ceiling. "I'm ruining this for you. Our first time as a couple." His voice dripped with self-loathing.

"Vanitas," Ven said softy, and gently ran his hand over Vanitas's heart, hoping he could settled down and calm down. "Just talk to me. Please."

For a moment, Vanitas was silent, and Ven feared he wouldn't say anything—but then he spoke. "Back then it was easy. I didn't have to care about consequences. I wanted you, and for some unfathomable reason, you wanted me too, and that was that. It was all doomed to end when we forged the χ-blade, so none of it truly mattered."

"So it is because we're together?" Ven's voice wavered.

"No, it's—everything _else_. I still want you, and you still want me, which makes even _less_ sense after everything I've done to you. But that's the problem—I care about all that stuff now. I care about what it all _means_ , about the _consequences_ , and—I can't get out of my _head_ sometimes." He paused, but Ven knew there was more, so he waited until Vanitas said, "I saw him today. Her brother."

Ven didn't need to ask who Vanitas meant. He still remembered the day Vanitas had told him about his lost past, about the time before he was Xehanort's apprentice, of when he'd _truly_ first met Vanitas, though at the time, he didn't use that name. It had been strange, hearing someone else tell him about himself. Stranger still to find out Vanitas had once used him to commit murder—on _Ven's_ own behalf, in Vanitas's strange, darkness-twisted logic at the time.

"Why do I get a second chance?" Vanitas asked. "He deserves to get whatever he wants in compensation."

" _Vanitas—_ "

"She was his _sister_. I observed from within you as he tried to find who—" He sighed. "I _taunted_ him about it. He should get to—"

Ven didn't want to let him finish that thought. "What about what _you_ deserve?"

"That's the thing, I don't—"

"That's where you're wrong. You deserve the world—as much as anyone else. You just don't _see_ it." Ven's hand had closed around Vanitas's arm, and he only realized how hard his fingers had clamped down when he heard Vanitas's pained hiss. He relaxed his hand, though the anger subsided. "It's not fair that you feel this way."

"If it had been everything else, I could believe you. Xehanort made me do it. But that was—"

"That was _worse_ than Xehanort!" Ven retorted. "The Darkness didn't even allow you the simple freedom of your own _name_! You don't think _that's_ manipulation?"

Vanitas stared at him, his gaze heavy with grief. "It's who I was, Ventus."

"Maybe. But is it who you are now?" Ven stared intently, daring Vanitas to claim that it was, but when he stayed silent, Ven continued. "When you came back, I talked to Riku. I thought—he'd have some insight about coming back from the abyss. But he didn't give me advice like I thought. He didn't tell me how _he_ did it. Instead, he told me about the last time he fought Ansem; him, Sora and Mickey. He told me Ansem's last words to him, and how, in that moment, he almost regretted causing Ansem's downfall. Because, maybe, just maybe, there was something he could have done to save him."

"So, he tried to make sure you gave me that chance. What about it? That's just about _his_ guilt."

"That's not all he said. He told me, if he couldn't save Ansem, the least he owed him was to live _for_ him. So I'm going to say the same to you now. You want compensation? Retribution? To right the wrongs you caused? How's your death going to fix anything? How will giving Lauriam revenge _help_ him? You of all people should know that's just more darkness, and that it won't _help_ him. If you want to make things right by her—and by her brother—what you do is _live_. And change. And be better—be _good_ , like she would have been, and then even more so."

"I'll never replace her."

"No. But it's the next best thing."

"I don't know if I can—"

"But I do. I know you can do it. I've _seen_ you do it already. It's just—sometimes, it's like, you realize you're happy, and you decide that that must be wrong. It's _not_ wrong. And until you accept that, I'll be there to remind you."

When Vanitas looked at him again, his gaze was softer. "I don't think I deserve you, either." Yet even as he said that, he rolled onto his side, until his face was pressed in the crook of Ven's neck, and he wrapped an arm around Ven's waist, holding on tight with seemingly no intention of letting go.

"I think that's _my_ decision, not yours," Ven pointed out.

"Then I'm thankful for your poor judgment."

"I'm serious, Vanitas," Ven chided him even as he drew his arm around Vanitas's shoulders and held him back. "Stop it."

Vanitas chuckled against him. "I'll try." Then he sighed. "This was the worst sex we've ever had. But I'm glad we had it anyway."

"Is it really that bad?" Ven asked. "It feels good to me. Even if I didn't come." He wasn't even hard anymore, any arousal long gone over the course of their argument. It didn't matter—this intimacy was just as well, and it was wholly _new_.

"Well, there _is_ that time Mickey found us and thought I was attacking you," Vanitas said. "Even when I didn't care about anything, that was still awkward."

Ven chuckled. "I don't think I've ever been this quick to get dressed."

"Do you think we should tell him someday? That if anyone was using his _Keyblade_ to _hurt_ anyone, it was you that time?"

"Don't you _dare_!" Ven protested, but Vanitas laughed, and Ven couldn't help but join him. The tension was draining out of Vanitas's body as he did, and that made Ven's heart soar.

"You're right," Vanitas said. "That moment belongs to us."

"So does this one," Ven said.

"You mean the time I ruined it with all my angst?"

"I mean the time you trusted me enough to open up about how you truly _felt_. We've had sex before. We never had _this_. It's more important." He looked up at the ceiling, then to the side, at the stars peeking through the window. He ran a hand through Vanitas's hair, and felt him inch just a little closer, his weight over Ven's body already an all-too familiar warmth. "Besides, there will be other times we have sex."

" _Presumably_ ," Vanitas teased.

"All in due time."

"Hmm." If Vanitas had meant to say any more, it was lost when he pressed his lips to Ven's chest, and his hand drifted downward. "I'm not opposed to trying again sooner rather than later."

Any hesitation Ven might have felt was silenced in his brain the moment Vanitas took him in his hands. Maybe his arousal hadn't _completely_ faded earlier—maybe it had just been waiting to come back. "Well," he said softly, biting back a moan as Vanitas began to stroke. "I guess it still counts as the first time if we do it now—"


End file.
